"Her Empire o'er my Soul each Moment grew; / Her Charms appear'd more numerous and new: / Fonder each Hour my tender Heart became, / And ev'ry Look fann'd and increas'd my Flame."
— Behn, Aphra (1640?-1689)
Author
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed by H. Meere, for C. King, and A. Bettesworth
Date
1717
Metaphor
"Her Empire o'er my Soul each Moment grew; / Her Charms appear'd more numerous and new: / Fonder each Hour my tender Heart became, / And ev'ry Look fann'd and increas'd my Flame."
Metaphor in Context
Oh! my dear Lysidas! my faithful Friend,
Would I could here, with all my Pleasures end!
'Twas Heav'n, 'twas Extasy, each Minute brought
New Raptures to my Senses, Soul, and Thought.
Young am'rous Hero's at her Feet did fall,
Despair'd, and dy'd, whilst I was Lord of all.
Her Empire o'er my Soul each Moment grew;
Her Charms appear'd more numerous and new:
Fonder each Hour my tender Heart became,
And ev'ry Look fann'd and increas'd my Flame.
Some God inform thee of my bless'd Estate;
But all their Pow'rs divert thee from my Fate!
For on a Day, oh! may no chearful Ray
Of the Sun's Light, bless that unlucky Day;
May the black Hours from the Account be torn;
May no fair Thing upon that Day be born;
May Fate and Hell appoint it for their own;
May no good Deed be in its Circle done;
May Rapes, Conspiracies, and Murthers, stay
'Till it comes on, be that the horrid Day.
When just before we were to solemnize
Our Vows, Death does the lovely Maid surprize.
Her fleeting Soul so quickly disappears,
As Leaves blown off with Winds, or falling Stars.
And Life its Flight assum'd with such a Pace,
It took no Farewel of her charming Face:
Her flying Soul no Beauty did surprize;
It scarce took Time to languish in her Eyes:
But on my panting Bosom bow'd her Head,
And sighing, these surprizing Words she said.
Would I could here, with all my Pleasures end!
'Twas Heav'n, 'twas Extasy, each Minute brought
New Raptures to my Senses, Soul, and Thought.
Young am'rous Hero's at her Feet did fall,
Despair'd, and dy'd, whilst I was Lord of all.
Her Empire o'er my Soul each Moment grew;
Her Charms appear'd more numerous and new:
Fonder each Hour my tender Heart became,
And ev'ry Look fann'd and increas'd my Flame.
Some God inform thee of my bless'd Estate;
But all their Pow'rs divert thee from my Fate!
For on a Day, oh! may no chearful Ray
Of the Sun's Light, bless that unlucky Day;
May the black Hours from the Account be torn;
May no fair Thing upon that Day be born;
May Fate and Hell appoint it for their own;
May no good Deed be in its Circle done;
May Rapes, Conspiracies, and Murthers, stay
'Till it comes on, be that the horrid Day.
When just before we were to solemnize
Our Vows, Death does the lovely Maid surprize.
Her fleeting Soul so quickly disappears,
As Leaves blown off with Winds, or falling Stars.
And Life its Flight assum'd with such a Pace,
It took no Farewel of her charming Face:
Her flying Soul no Beauty did surprize;
It scarce took Time to languish in her Eyes:
But on my panting Bosom bow'd her Head,
And sighing, these surprizing Words she said.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "empire" and "soul" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Only 1 entry in ESTC (1717). [A version of Behn's Voyage to the Island of Love, anonymously revised.]
The Land of Love. A Poem. (London: Printed by H. Meere, for C. King in Westminster-Hall, and A. Bettesworth in Pater-Noster Row, 1717). <Link to ESTC>
The Land of Love. A Poem. (London: Printed by H. Meere, for C. King in Westminster-Hall, and A. Bettesworth in Pater-Noster Row, 1717). <Link to ESTC>
Date of Entry
08/11/2004
Date of Review
01/06/2011
